


(lost my heart to a) starship trooper

by rayguntomyhead



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 12:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15751683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayguntomyhead/pseuds/rayguntomyhead
Summary: Lost my heart to a starship trooper…I lost my heart to a starship trooper...ear worm, more like ear candy. Just the thing to go with eye candy, which is totally what Nate is right now, half naked in the bathroom doing his best to glare his hair into submission with the assistance of copious amounts of pomade, and pointedly ignoring Wade.





	(lost my heart to a) starship trooper

**Author's Note:**

> edited condensed repost of a fic I posted on my other account.

_Lost my heart to a starship trooper...I lost my heart to a starship trooper..._ ear worm, more like ear candy. Just the thing to go with eye candy, which is totally what Nate is right now, half naked in the bathroom doing his best to glare his hair into submission with the assistance of copious amounts of pomade, and pointedly ignoring Wade. 

Hey, if he hadn’t wanted Wade to stare he should have shut the bathroom door all the way. Or protested more vigorously when Wade casually knocked it open. Or not left the chair just there where Wade could drape himself over the back for maximum stare-age. Plus especially really, he should know by now that his growly grumpy noises are basically the exact opposite of a deterrent.

View completely unobstructed, Wade can see that Nate isn’t just rocking a Winter Soldier arm, he’s got metal crawling up his neck, across his pecs, his lats, wanderingly teasing down his side until it disappears in those sleep pants which hang low on his hips like he’s done it on purpose that rotten gorgeous bastard.

And maybe he has, Nate’s been particularly snarky lately, but not in the biting nasty way, more like the unconsciously flirty way or maybe that’s just Little Wade being overly optimistic.

There’s even the outline of a couple sweet future-tech weapons festooning his person. Always prepared, that’s Nate, that super future soldier boy scout, him. He’d said he was a solder, hadn’t he, or something like it? Could mean he’s more of a freelance operator like Wade, or maybe some kind of rebel fighter. Except not _starship trooper_ more like Mad Max and where is the future Star Trek promised now?

Nate picks at a strand that’s flopped rebelliously to the side, pushes it firmly back to join all the other appropriately obedient hairs, laying straight as soldiers. Straight as soldiers, hah. Wade shivers pleasantly at the memory of exactly how straight soldiers are, mmmyup.

Maybe Nate’s straight as those soldiers too, maybe he’ll fuck Wade’s mouth until he gags on it too, stare down at him like he may be a batshit crazy bastard, but right now he's the best batshit crazy bastard in the whole goddamn world. Nate might like it enough to make more of those lovely growly Nate-noises, jam his nails into the meat of Wade’s neck, claw and clench and bury himself deeper. Wade can take it. He can take anything Nate’ll give him.

_Hand in hand we’ll conquer space_ space and time, especially time, _body slide by two_ except that’s not this universe is it? He can’t remember, except no, this Nate is short, short and angry and he likes calling Wade things like _buttplug_ and _sextoy_ and Wade will totally be Nate’s sextoy and is Nate pulling out a razor? Oo, he is, _fuck_ and he’s gonna sharpen it first hotdamn is Wade a lucky, lucky boy.

Nate holds the whetstone in his metal hand, pinching it delicately like he’s afraid he’s gonna smash it with just his fingers, and _swish swish_ goes the knife against stone, and the noise slides just right up Wade’s spine and he shivers, the nice tingly kind of shivers.

_Swish swish_ , and then Nate’s pulling the skin taunt setting steel to skin, scraping it along that Man of Steel jawline, like the best action hero cliche ever drawn but what’s even better is his hands.

Thick, calloused hands, deft hands, the kind of hands that can assemble a gun like it’s perfectly easy, _like the bolt and the breech and the cocking piece_ , could crush you wrists until they ache, twist and grate the bones together just right and make you like it, make Wade like it but then that really isn’t that hard. He’s a slut for it, isn’t that what Uncle Steve said?

Or maybe Steve hadn’t said that at all, maybe that was Kevin, after he said _shut up shut up_ and _It’s not gonna hurt_ except it did hurt isn't that funny? So funny, like _oops I slipped on a banana!_ funny but let's think about things instead like Nate and his face and how he's moved on now to rubbing some sort of lotion onto it, the vain bastard. Who keeps lotion to put on their skin, everyone knows lotion is for jerking off.

Nate could make it hurt. Like he did when he slammed his knife into Wade’s thigh, punched him in the spine, shot him up like a paper target. Gave it the ol’ college try, making dub step die. But joke’s on him, even a juiced up super gun from the future can’t keep a good Wade down. He can give Nate a few more goes though, let him get really creative. Wade's generous that way 'c ause fuck if it ain't that kind of story, the story about how the boy who likes boys becomes a dead boy, the sound the boy’s head makes caving in, _bang bang_ the boy’s slick guts painting concrete pretty as sidewalk chalk. The bomb inside the heart going off ‘cause he can’t stop, won’t stop, falling in love, even as it all explodes like a land mine.

Ka chika _boom_. Heh.

Maybe Nate’ll snug his gun right up under Wade’s chin, no, you know what would be _even better_ , if he got his hand around Wade’s throat and pushed _,_ up, up and in _._

Maybe his tin man hand, maybe his right, either way a black leather-covered palm hoisting him up a conveniently placed wall, maybe in the bathroom with the razor caressing his jugular right  
over Nate's fingers and tile seeping cold through Wade's t-shirt.

Maybe he'll just press down enough that Wade has to suck whistling for every breath _flashing lights through hyperspace_ flashing lights bursting like bang snaps behind his eyes _heart eyes motherfucker_ because those big red anatomically incorrect assholes push their way out every time Wade looks at Nate, with his arm and his face and his eyes, and his stupid _stupid_ haircut.

Wade squeezes his legs together, and his bladder twinges. He has to piss. He had to twenty minutes ago, but Nate had to be all _distracting._ Maybe he won’t notice if Wade just–

“What the fuck are you doing.”

Or maybe Nate will notice.

“Sharing is caring,” Wade says brightly, “Snacks, bathrooms. Guns,” Wade waggles his eyebrows in that precise pattern to convey _remember that?_ “Or don’t they have kindergarden in Airstrip One?”

Nate scowls, which seems to be his default expression whenever Wade talks. You’d think Wade was, like, annoying or something.

“Don’t look at me like that, it’ll give you more wrinkles. The point is that you seem to only be about twenty minutes into your pre-show primping, Mitzi Del Grandpa, and some people have to tinkle.”

Wade eases through the gap between Nate and the doorway and Nate’s arm is _right there,_ close enough to poke and does his arm feel like the edges of a quarter? Bet it feels like the edges of a quarter, all raised and ridged and Wade wants to lick him, see if he tastes like a quarter too.

“What did you call me.”  
The razor clinks delicately against ceramic as Nate sets it down on the sink edge, side-eying Wade as he leans for the towel crumpled on the toilet lid.

Wade ignores him, gropes for a handful of sweet metal delt to test his theory except _ooo_ Nate’s hands are exactly as strong as Wade remembers.

What a conveniently placed wall.

“Gonna pull a Deckard on me, big guy?” Wade squirms, just so Nate will pin him a little harder, _take me, make me feel the force._ Harder, heh. Wade makes everything hard and he’s hard and Nate should totally do something about that the cock-teasing son of a smarmy uptight Polyphemus.

Nate scowls harder. “You _trying_ to piss me off?”  
If it gets Wade pinned like this, then absofuckinglutely he is.

“You’re dangerous,“ Wade says, giddy as a teenage girl gone dancing and then forgets the rest of what he was going to say when Nate makes another perfect growly Nate noise and leans his weight into Wade _pulse rate increasing as the heat factor soars_ ladies and gents, this is absolutely the part of the movie where the girl gets kissed, it’s about time for Nate to get with the program (except please, Nate's thick as his dick he's never gonna get with the program, someone's gonna make sure they string out this UST until Wade _dies_ ).

Wade squirms harder, and he’s making noises too, breathy groany noises that make Nate pause and c'mooooon dammit. He's clearly not reading off the same script, _whomp whomp_.

Except Nate doesn’t let him go, says, “Or maybe you’re not trying to piss me off.”

He eyes Wade up and down, narrows his eyes and Wade can practically see the cogs coming together in that not-yet cybernetic brain of his.

“Maybe you’re trying for something else,” the corner of his lip tugs up in a smirk, and he gives Wade a little shake.

“You know,” he says, “all your goddamn antics, if this all is because you want me to fuck you, you just had to ask.”

...aaaand insert a screeching brake effect here, sudden skipping heartbeats, the whole shebang, because what in gay heaven? Did those words come out of that religiously lip-balmed mouth or is this one of those nice, friendly wish-fulfillment hallucinations again?

Wade pinches his thigh, then reconsiders. No, there would be more fucking already happening if this was a hallucination, which means aw yeah _,_ it wasn’t just unconscious flirting, Nate’s absolutely down to bump fuzzies, do the nasty, boldly go where other people have gone before, _your intentions are known, Nate, they’ve found out at last,_ wait not them, Wade, Wade’s found out at last.

“I’m gonna ride you like you’re Priscilla Queen of the Desert,” he gasps, shoves one hand down the back of Nate’s tease of a sleep pants and the other down the front, and he’s _totally_ gonna feel the galactic thrill now, babe.

“I don’t understand a single word that comes out of that gorgeous mouth of yours,” Nate presses Wade harder into the wall as he cups the back of Wade’s scalp, thumbs at said mouth and growls, “Maybe you should fill it with my cock instead,” and _ooooh_ Wade really _is_ a lucky, lucky boy.

“Aw, don’t say you’re tired of hearing my dulcet tones already?” he whispers against Nate’s ear, gropes at the hard line of his cock and _hello, sailor_.

Wade’s knees give a giddy little wobble. Clearly they’ve got the right idea so he falls to them, shimmying Nate’s pants down with him and oh, _oh, we have situation gold_ and Wade needs to get his mouth on that right the fuck now. 

“I’m not,” Nate says, and what? He sounds _way_ too coherent for a man who has another man’s mouth an inch from his dick. But Wade magnanimously decides to ignore the ramblings of Nate’s old age like the altruist he is, except then Nate adds, “Don't shut up... your voice, that ridiculous hollow Demi Moore rumble…” before choking off into a strangled gurgle as Wade wraps a hand around him and well. That’s. 

Wade’s chest flutters like it’s covered in a sudden stampede of tiny elephants, or maybe a band of tiny cartoon creations enthusiastically fucking like what the two of them should clearly be doing right now so he licks a stripe up Nate’s gorgeous dick and fits his mouth over the head. 

“J- _jesus_ c _hrist,_ ” Nate gasps, curls over Wade, palms lightly at his scalp like he thinks Wade’s delicate or something so Wade grumbles, swallows Nate deeper. He still tastes vaguely like soap but mostly like cock and Wade lets him slip out again slowly, teasing. 

That makes Nate rumble at him and ooo yes, let’s make him do that some more. So Wade stays there, sucking at the head, tracing down the sides until Nate _growls,_ digs metal fingers into Wade’s scalp. Holds him there while he shoves forward and _touch me, feel me, do what you will_ it’s perfect and Wade melts, lets his mouth go slack so Nate can fuck in, and in, and in. 

Feels good, to just stay on his knees and take it and Wade’s so hard. He squirms his legs wider, slides a hand between them and _oh_ yes. 

Nate’s eyes are on him, dark and faintly glowing.

“Fuck, look at you,” Nate roughs out, slides his hand down until he can squeeze at Wade’s nape. “This what you needed? Needed to fill that pretty mouth of yours full of my cock?” and it _is,_ it is what Wade needed and he moans around his mouthful. 

“Yeah,” Nate fucks in harder, grinding into Wade. _‘“_ That’s it. Just like that, gorgeous.” 

_Just like that gorgeous so what’ll it be, handsome_ you know, there’s this side of Nate Wade really doesn’t like, because okay, he may look like _Freddy Kruger avocado testicle with teeth shar-pei crossed with Ryan Reynolds_ but he’s got the man’s dick down his throat. Seems like that should earn him a few minutes without the sarcastic commentary. 

Wade mumbles as much, but although it’s douuuuuubtful Nate can understand him the strangled gasp Nate makes as he chokes on his own spit is exactly as satisfying as Wade hoped. 

“Christ, that mouth of yours,” Nate chokes out, “thought of this every time you gave me lip,”and his hips are working faster now, barely giving Wade a second to breath as he fucks in, and in, and in. 

“Taking me so good,” Nate rubs at the shell of Wade’s ear, pushes his cock in just a little deeper, “so good, gorgeous.” 

So Wade stays there, swallows around Nate until black spots dance merrily in his eyes, but instead of appreciating a good thing when it happens Nate inhales deep, pulls him gently back. Hauls Wade to his feet and crowds him back up against the wall with all those bulging muscles that flex so lovely when Wade gets his hands all over them. 

Hands cup his pitted cheeks and then Nate kisses him, kisses him all sweet and soft and warm, like melting ice cream pops in July, like maybe this means something, and Wade doesn’t– he can’t–

“C’mon,” Nate whispers against his lips, trails his mouth down to bite a kiss into Wade’s throat, “Wanna touch you,” and he’s tugging Wade out the bathroom and towards the bed. 

He pushes Wade flat on the Hello Kitty sheets, lays him out like he’s something precious, lays him out like he’s _lost his heart to a starship trooper._ It’s only fair game, after all, because Nate’s made Wade lose his. 

There’s barely the chance to revel and squirm in it though before Nate climbs over him and pins him down with both forearms on his shoulders. Kisses him like an angel good morning, like he’s gonna love Wade like the devil and Wade needs to get his hands all over Nate right the fuck now. 

And somehow Wade thought all that metal would feel cooler against his skin, but it doesn’t, it’s warm and humming underneath his fingers. He traces the seam where metal jags into flesh, digs his fingernail in and drags it down when Nate shivers, collapses down onto him. He worms his hands under Wade’s hips so he can pull them together, grind their cocks together and _oh, baby, do you feel my devotion_ Wade needs this, he can’t wait, needs to come, make Nate come with him. 

“Fuck, you feel so– _fuck,_ ” Nate grits out into Wade’s chest, and ribbed for his pleasure, that’s Wade. “Thought of this when we were in that fucking cab,” except whaaaaa? Wasn’t that more along the lines of ‘fuck you to death with your own broken feet’? 

“Thought of seducing me into starring in our own two-man snuff film?” Wade pants, and if Nate isn’t red-faced and murder-y now, he’ll get there. “Because I should warn you. Can’t really stop the ol' bodily functions until I rejoin you in the land of the self-righteous living.” 

“What– _no,_ you fucking– lunatic,” Nate’s words are chopping themselves like salad, and they’re rutting into each other like two horny teens in a car at Makeout Point, young, untried, slick with sweat and desperation, until Nate finally moans like he’s dying, shoves an arm between them, wraps a hand around them both _._ Wade’s eyes roll back in his head as he shudders up off the bed _, please yes Nate fuck please,_ back arching and toes curling, the whole nine yards and more as he writhes in Nate’s grip and finally, _finally,_ falls apart. 

He floats there, shivering, oversensitive as Nate bites into his shoulder, fucks down against him desperate and erratic until he’s coming too, all over Wade’s stomach, smearing it into his belly. Panting into Wade’s neck, hair catching and rubbing against Wade’s skin as he mouths along the tendons of his scarred-up shoulders, shivering with the aftershocks _._

Wade wriggles just a bit, just to feel Nate settle his weight a little more solidly onto Wade’s side like he’s refusing to go anywhere, and isn’t that a lovely thought. 

Maybe Nate _won’t_ go anywhere, maybe they can do this again, maybe next time Nate will open him up slow, slick him up and fuck his cock in deep.Splay Wade open and pin him like a butterfly, drag that stubble of his over Wade’s neck until it reddened, bite him up with sharp-toothed dents and peppercorn bruises. Bury his face in Wade’s throat like somehow he’s finding god in the twisted lock of their bodies.  Nate seems like he’d be the kind of sappily poetic bastard to describe a fuck like that. 

“Hey Captain Strange, won’t you be my lover,” Wade says giddily, licks a stripe up Nate’s earlobe and giggles when Nate practically squeaks and then makes lots of grumbly noises about it. 

“See coming y’r brains out hasn’t made you make any more sense, you mouthy fuck,” he slurs, noses into Wade’s neck, and he sounds so _fond._ It does all sorts of terribly squishy things to Wade’s chest and he whispers helplessly, “You’re the best thing I’ve _ever discovered_ ,” because well. After all, it might be Nate is _._


End file.
